Bullets in the Gun
by ConcreteAngelRoxHerHalo
Summary: Percy never expected anything when he went up to the DJ booth to request a song. Written in loving memory of the shooting victims of Arizona and Colorado.


I glanced at the inside of my locker one more time- and the picture of Annabeth and Grover. My books weighed me down as I trudged off to class, alone in the hallway. I walked into my Hstiroy- i mean history- class in the middle of a lecture.

'Sorry, Mr. Goldstein, sorry for being late.' I said, ducking into my seat.

'Well Mr. Jackson, late again I see... Detention this Saturday, 7 am, my office!'

'But sir-'

'No buts, Mr Jackson. Now take out your books and flip to page 346, the Mayan Empire.'

Little did I, or my teacher, know, that I would never show up for detention.

I looked over to the 7th grader sitting next to me, and saw her sliding her ipod up the sleeves of her sweatshirt. If I listened closely, i could hear the country song that was playing. That usually isn't my type of music, but the song was kind-of catchy.

'They used to call me Alladin,

I was always quick to strike,

had everything I owned,

in a sack on my back. (**Im not sure if this lyric is right, i know the song by heart but this lyric is hard to understand.**)

I had a reputation,

for never staying very long,

just like a wild and restless drifter,

like a cowboy in a song.

I couldn't help myself, i started to hum along.

'Mr Jackson, if you would please keep your musical- noise- to yourself.' The class snickered, and I blushed.

'Bullets in the gun.' The girl said.

'What?' i whispered back.

'That's the name of the song, Bullets in the gun.'

'Oh.'

The loudspeaker crackled above, and the girl took out her ipod.

'Helloooo students and staff! As you know, it is the end of this semester! In celebration, we will be having a block party-' The class groaned. 'With all grades at once! Your teachers will lead the class and the visiting 7th graders down in 20 minutes!'

'Class, continue working untill it is time to head down.' Mr. Goldstein ordered. The girl slid me her completed notes. Confused, I copied her neat handwriting, changing a few big words to make it seem more like me. Then I handed her notes back to her, and pulled out a fresh sheet of notebook paper. I wrote:

Thx for the notes, but y?

_I know a dyxlectic when I see one. It wouldve taken forever for u to finish._

Thx again. What's ur name?

_Ceara, but everybody calls me CC. What's urs?_

Percy.

_Cool. What year?_

Softmore. What school r u visiting from? wait, u r one of the visiting 7th graders, rite?

_ya, I am. I'm visiting from the Tribecca Middle school down the street._

Cool. Do you know the other two visiting in this class?

_Ya, Sam and Jake? they're my two best friends. _

Awesome.

'Okay class, time to head down to the cafeteria.' Mr Goldstein announced, shooing us out of the class.

In the Cafe

So CC and I headed down to the cafeteria together, where we split up. It was extremely crowded, and they were playing a song that was old the day it came out.

I approached the DJ, a student teacher from NYU, and requested 'Bullets in the gun'. Well, i never got to hear the whole song.

'Excellent choice for the occasion, Percy.' He smiled, and suddenly, I ran off to find Rachel. Then all Hell broke loose.

** Annabeth's POV**

For some reason, my school had let out early, so i headed to the Jackson residence. I knocked on the door to Percy's apartment, and Sally opened the door.

'Hi Annabeth! What are you doing out of school so early?'

'I don't know, they just told us that we were going home early, so I came to see if Percy was around.'

'Oh, he hasn't come home yet. But come in and make yourself at home.'

'Thanks, Ms Jackson.' I walked in and settled on the couch. I turned up the volume on the news. The usually all-smiles newslady was stone serious.

'And of more recent news, a local Jr high/ High school was recently attacked by a student teacher carrying a gun. Horribly, this was the day that 7th graders from schools and homes across town came to visit, and that age group was the one that suffered the most fatalities.' The screen showed two school pictures of thirteen year olds, and one photograph of a boy at the beach.

'Homeschooled Samuel Brown, Tribecca Middle school's Ceara Regiski, and Queen-of-Saint's Jacob Manhew were the 7th grade victims. In eighth grade, Chris Huffer was the only loss. In the freshman class, we mourn Drew green.'

I hated it when things like this happen. Sure, this was New York, but still.

'And last but most certainly not least, the softmore' A picture of a black haired boy popped up on the screen, 'Perseus Jackson.'


End file.
